Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 65429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“Ethan… I had no idea.”
“It’s always been you, Livvy, and it will always be for me. You’re my soulmate. I’ll always be in love with you.”
The uncontrollable tears flew endlessly.
This was the moment.
The second.
The time that Ethan and I could finally be together, and I couldn’t have been more ready for it.
“I’m sorry, Ethan. I should have never said yes to Beau. Not when I’ve always been in love with you. Tell me not to marry him, and I swear to you I won’t.”
I waited.
And waited.
And waited...
Until he finally said, “I can’t tell you that. As much as I want to, as much as I wish I could, I can’t make that choice for you. I’d be no better than your parents. It needs to come from you, Livvy, or you’ll always remember that you didn’t marry him because I told you not to. I love you too much to risk the chance of you regretting your decision and blaming me for it.”
He kissed away my tears, rubbing his soft lips along my heated skin that felt like it was on fire.
I felt like I was on fire, burning inside and out.
“Ethan, please…” I begged.
Instead, he kissed the corner of my mouth like he did the first night, letting his lips linger.
“I’m sorry,” he cautiously spoke. “I can’t.”
With that, he turned around and left.
I broke down.
I bawled.
Big, huge, ugly tears.
I cried until I couldn’t breathe.
Until I couldn’t speak.
Until I couldn’t cry anymore.
Then I got up, jumped in the shower, and went to bed. Because tomorrow, I’d become…
Mrs. Elizabeth Hunter.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Ethan
I barely slept that night.
I’d never forget the expression on Livvy’s face as she begged me to tell her not to marry Beau. It’d be a memory that would forever haunt me. Trust me, it took everything inside me not to ask her to marry me instead.
My time was up, and I couldn’t believe my team didn’t find one fucking thing on her fiancé, soon-to-be husband. I couldn’t have our conversation end the way it did. The ceremony was only two hours away, and after I finished getting dressed in my tux for my best friend’s wedding, I had to talk to her and make things right between us.
Her door was slightly open, and it was almost like I had an out-of-body experience. Slowly, I pushed it open to reveal the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Livvy looked gorgeous. She stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, wearing a white lace wedding dress as she stared at herself in the reflection. I stopped dead in my tracks, captivated by her. Unable to move forward.
My chest heaved.
My breath hitched.
My body froze.
She didn’t try on this dress that morning. This one was new and so fucking perfect for her.
Within seconds, we locked stares through the mirror. Our emotions poured out of us, bleeding on the ground beneath us. I shut the door, locking it behind me.
“You look gorgeous, Livvy,” I breathed out, suddenly standing close behind her.
“Thank you,” she replied in a gentle tone. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
I shook my head and asked, “How did we get here?”
“I don’t know. I wish I knew, but we’re here, nonetheless. At least I know where you stand now, Ethan.”
“That’s not fair.”
“How else am I supposed to feel?” She pointed at herself. “I basically throw myself at you, and you—”
“You think that was easy for me? You think I want you to marry him! You’re literally marrying the first man who paid attention to you!”
“Bullshit! If that were true, then I’d be marrying you!”
She immediately turned to face me. “I love him!”
“No, you love the idea of him. You love that it’s comfortable. You love that your parents approve of him! You love that it’s easy! You love that you think this is what you’re supposed to be doing. You’re trying to make everyone else happy, even if you’re miserable. You’ve always been this way, but when will you start putting what you want first? When will that matter? Because you’re running out of time, and I can’t just stand back and let you marry the wrong man!”
“You’re doing this now? You’re doing this to me hours before my wedding? I asked you last night. No, I begged you last night—”
“I can’t do it for you! What part of that do you not understand?”
Her chest rose and fell with each word that fell from my lips.
“Let me touch you, Livvy. Let me prove to you that everything I say is true.”
Our faces were inches apart, and I felt her everywhere.
Her body.
Her soul.
Her heart.
It was right there for me to remind her who she belonged to. Who she’d always belong to.
“Tell me to leave, Livvy. Tell me to go. Tell me that you don’t wish it were me that you went to bed with every night and woke up to every morning. Tell me you want this, and I swear I’ll leave it alone. I’ll watch you marry Beau and not say a damn word. Just let me hear you say it to me.”